


we should(n't) be drinking alone

by charjace



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of canon deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21510694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charjace/pseuds/charjace
Summary: based losely on the song, drinking alone by carrie underwood
Relationships: Richie Tozier & Patricia Blum Uris
Kudos: 13





	we should(n't) be drinking alone

**Author's Note:**

> based losely on the song, drinking alone by carrie underwood

It was cold outside but it was nice and warm inside, where she sat with a drink in her hands. The music a dull noise in the background as she put the drink to her lips. It was  _ his _ birthday today, and he wasn’t around anymore and she couldn’t bear to be alone but didn’t really want to spend it with anyone she knows. Because they’ll just ask her the questions, she has heard a million times and it’s always the same answer. She is not fine, she lost her husband, the one person who cared for her and loved for her for  _ her _ and nothing else. The one she saw her living the rest of her life with, growing old and having that kid they planned off; but she can’t not now that he was gone.

She wasn’t much of a drinker, barely touched the stuff unless on a special occasion but tonight, she needed the strong stuff,  _ just  _ for tonight. Tonight only. She’ll be okay tomorrow, or maybe not  _ okay _ but better  than she is right now.

Right now, she’s just people watching, watching as people move around the bar, catching up with friends or family. She notices someone with a sad look upon their features, there was  _ something  _ familiar about him, but not something she could pin point right now. He was looking down into his empty glass, and she could see it on his face – the way he was trying to hold himself together, because she’s seen it too many times of herself every time she passes by a mirror. She finishes her drink before going up to the bar and ordering two drinks. Thanking the bartender for the drinks before going and taking a seat next to the man, handing him the drink.

“You didn’t spike it did you?” He jokes, but it falls flat – like joking was a mask he was barely holding up, one that was cracking and crumbling to pieces right in front of them. She doesn’t get to say anything in response before he takes the drink, downing half of it in one huge gulp. “Thanks.”

“It’s none of my business, but what’s troubling you? I don’t want to be alone right now and could do with some distracting myself,” She offers, giving a small smile – hoping it is enough to let him feel safe enough to tell her even just a little bit.

He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “I’m just dealing with a lot. I lost two of my friends within the span of a week or so of each other. One of whom, I was  _ in love with _ ,” She watches as he downs the rest of his drink, she takes a sip of her own. “The other, he was my best friend when we were kids. My first true friend. But... we all forgot each other, until three months ago. That  _ fucking call _ ,”

Her body stiffens slightly, a call? She takes a big sip of her own drink, “Stan... I miss him, and I... I never got to see him again, and I never will. Stan the Man,” He lets out a laugh, but it’s not full of joy but the sad kind, the one you hear when someone remembers the good times that are laced with sadness now. “I can see him now though, rolling his eyes at me. Telling me I should have  _ done _ something about my feelings. I came here, to this place because this is where he ended up living. It’s his birthday, and I just miss him. He was the only one who knew,” He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, fishing out a piece of paper.

As he unfolds it, she can feel tears prickle her eyes because she knows that handwriting. She doesn’t read it though; she didn’t even read the one that got sent back to her home. The one for an  _ Eddie  _ _ Kaspbrak _ was sent back to her, and her heart sank because she thinks she knows why it was sent back now. Eddie wasn’t with them anymore, much like her Stan wasn’t. She reaches a hand and places it over his, giving his hand a squeeze as traces over the lettering. “Which one are you?”

He looks at her, giving a tilt of his head and his glasses fall slightly down his face. “What?”

“I mean... who are you? Your name?”

“Oh, Richie.”

“Richie, Richie Tozier. I’m Patty, Patty  _ Uris _ ,” She says, and she was surprised by the hug he had pulled her into. He was holding onto her tightly, and she could feel her shoulder starting to get damp. Her own eyes betraying her and tears start to fall down her face. After a while, he pulls away and says sorry, but she tells him not to be. 

They couldn’t keep everything bottled forever, even if they tried too. It was just some kind of miracle that they found each other that night, so they could talk about it. Eventually the bar closed, and they went their separate ways but with a promise to talk again. Because she could do with a connection to Stan’s past, and he could do with a connection to Stan’s adult life. They’re bridges from to different sides, meeting at the halfway and finding a way to move on at their own, slow pace.

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me why, i just go the idea and, then went with it.


End file.
